


Not Okay

by withaflashoflove



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 20:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9458600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withaflashoflove/pseuds/withaflashoflove
Summary: Bedroom scene after the housewarming party. Set post 3x10.





	

He stares intently at her, noticing the way she braces herself against the vanity, taking a few seconds too long to ease her grip on the surface before bringing her hands to undo one of the earrings she has on.

She's still wearing the dress and the shoes, her hair is still beautifully swept to one side, revealing the bareness of her back, and Barry can't help but wonder if the reason the muscles are so defined is because she's been working out a little too hard, or because she's still carrying tension that hasn't found an outlet.

He doesn't know how to make this any easier for her. He's not sure whether she wants him to bring it up again, or whether he should wait till she's ready to say something.

That's the thing about Iris: she's so much better at reading him than he is her. She seems to know the perfect questions to ask, all the right words to say, every sentence composed with reassurance and compassion, every syllable enunciated to a perfection and he's rendered...speechless.

He knows she's not okay. He sensed it all night by the way her eyes were wandering, by the way she'd hold her breath before abruptly letting it out, by the way she'd stare off into the distance till someone said her name, by the way she clung to his body towards the end of the night, after a few wine glasses in and too much meaningless small talk.

And that's besides her disappearance to the restroom, one that took too long, until he had to go look for her to make sure she was okay, until she brushed it off as retouching her makeup, but he could see the red in her eyes, could trace the dried tear streaks on her face, and his heart sunk all the way to his stomach.

Just like it does now, when he begins to see a tear forming in her eye, and he can't help but make his way over to her, bring his arms around her waist and pull her against his chest.

"Hey." He hums into her neck, leaving a tender kiss on it as well, before bringing his eyes to meet hers through the mirror.

"Sorry, I'm so-"

"No." Barry stops her with fervor, spinning her around so that she's chest-to-chest with him. "Why are you apologizing, Iris?"

His voice breaks at the release of her name, much like it did in the time vault earlier, like it's too heavy to escape his lips without deflating the air out of his lungs.

Iris just buries her head in his chest, resorting to silence instead, much like she always does when the emotions get too heavy, and Barry realizes that maybe right now, she just wants to be held.

So his hands come to grip her waist and he places soft kisses to the crown of her head, gently moving the pads of his fingers along her back. Slowly, he rocks her back and forth, waits for her cries to dissipate, waits for her to give him a signal that she's ready to let go.

"Barry." Her voice comes after a few minutes have passed.

"Hmm."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" she asks.

He sighs.

And then she's pulling out of his embrace, eyes coming to meet his, and he can still see the memory of tears when they were falling, and he swallows the excuse that's already forming on the tip of his tongue.

"All this time," she continues, "all these days...these weeks...between moving in and furnishing the house...and..."

Her voice trails off.

He notices her brow furrowing.

Still, he stays quiet, waits for her to take the lead, waits for her thoughts to form into words.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Her eyes keep focus on him and Barry ducks his head, counting to 10 in his mind before reaching for both her hands. "Can we sit?"

She nods.

But instead of walking her back to the bed, he loops his arms around her and drags the zipper down, the same zipper he'd been pulling up a few hours ago, when she seemed like she was fine, too preoccupied with dinner to be thinking about any future prophecies, about a death that should never happen in any timeline, in any possibility.

Iris lets the dress drop to the ground.

In a second, he's back to her, dressing her in one of his shirts, his own dress clothes off, sweats replacing them.

And before the storm hits, he finds himself needing a kiss from her, like it's the last thing he has to do before the world stops spinning for them, so he bends down and captures her lips in his, kisses her all the way on the path to the bed, only pulls away when they're both rested on it.

Barry reaches for her hands.

"I didn't know how to tell you," he sighs, "Iris, it's not...it's not something I knew how to say."

"But that's okay."

Her voice shakes, much like it did in the time vault, the same way it sounded like when she said  _how long_ and he's kicking himself for being so bad with words, for not knowing how to make the pain stop.

"Barry." Iris pulls him out of his thoughts. "No more secrets. We promised."

"I couldn't do it! Iris, if I said it, it became real, and I didn't want it to be real!"

The bed bounces up as soon as his body leaves it, and their bedroom suddenly feels a lot smaller than he remembers it. There isn't enough room to pace, there isn't enough room to escape whatever future might be waiting for them, and he feels like he's stuck.

She grabs his hand when he gets close enough.

"Come back to bed," she whispers.

So he does.

Because this is about her.

Not about his guilt.

It's about her.

And he'll do whatever it takes to help her right now.

"I'm not blaming you-"

"Iris I know, god I know." Both of his hands come to cup her cheeks. "You'd never, and it makes this next to impossible. Because it shouldn't be you. It shouldn't be you who goes through this, who has to face this, who has to fathom this as a possibility. 

You don't deserve this."

"But it's the reality, isn't it?"

He ducks his head.

"Baby..." She reaches out for his chin, making him meet her eyes. "I'm on your side."

"I know."

Silence follows, neither of them daring to break it. Outside, the city goes on, and he thinks maybe Wally is out there somewhere, saving someone, doing the job with no distractions in mind. Iris's mind wanders to her dad, to the team, to whether Cisco and Caitlin got home safely, to where Wally is, whether he's safe, but she brings herself inward.

Takes another breath.

She has to talk this through.

"Bear," she finally breathes into the air.

He looks at her.

"I'm sc...I'm terrified."

And her voice is so small and so weak that she doubts it even left her lips, but then he's pulling her into his chest, so she must've said something at least.

The tears begin leaving her eyes again, and this time she doesn't bother stopping them.

"I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, Iris." 

She feels his embrace tighten around her, feels the whole world disappear while he’s holding her, and she lets herself get lost in him, like he’s the only thing that matters right now, like there isn’t any future prophecy, like there aren’t any complications, like everything is _safe_ just for now.

“I don’t want to die.” She lets out a breathy sob, and in an instant, he’s pulling her to his lap, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and the other under her thighs.

“You won’t.”

She refuses to look at him.

“Iris.”

She can’t do it, knows if she does, it’ll all become real because they’re talking about this again, they’re really doing this, and he’s finally let her in to something so life changing, something she can’t begin to swallow.

She doesn’t want to die, can’t die.

Not when her best years are still ahead of her.

Not when her brother is finally Kid Flash.

Not when she’s finally part of Team Flash.

Not when she’s with the love of her life.

Not when she’s found her way at CCPN, she’s made a name for herself,  _ is  _ making a name for herself, and she can’t give that up.

“Iris.”

Barry’s voice comes again, followed by a gentle nudge, and then his fingers are on her chin in the same way hers were on his a couple of minutes back.

He holds her gaze.

“You will not die.”

But he can’t promise that.

No matter how much he wants to, and  _ god  _ she knows he wants to,  _ wants  _ him to, but it’s not guaranteed.

So she nods. Once. Twice.

Maybe to reassure him.

Maybe to reassure herself.

But she does.

“I need you to promise me something,” she finally says.

“Anything.”

“Barry.” She holds her breath. “Promise me that whatever you find out, you will tell me.”

When he doesn’t respond, she continues. “I...Bear, I need to know. I  _ need  _ to know,” she repeats, hoping he understands, hoping he knows that the truth is the only thing that will reassure her, that her being in control of this mission to change the future is the only thing that will give her ease of mind, and she needs his honesty, his faith in her, more than she’s ever needed it before.

“Iris..”

“If you change something, you need to tell me,” she cuts him off. “If you go back to the future and it’s the same prophecy, you need to tell me. If Wally or my dad or anyone gets hurt, you need to tell me.

Barry, this...this is all I have left.”

“No-”

“Bear, some moments in my life have been really hard,” she continues, ignoring his comment, “from losing my mom to losing you to losing Eddie to losing my mom again, I feel like I’ve lost everyone I’ve loved at least once.”

She pauses, catching her breath.

And it’s hard for her to do this, to vocalize her feelings when she’s so used to staying in the silence, when it’s so much easier for her to be the support instead of reaching out for support.

All her life, she’s been tending to the men around her. She played the role of mother and daughter and best friend before she understood the capacity of the words. She took Barry in, built him a world out of her own love and strength, a world where monsters didn’t exist, where his eyes didn’t see the man who killed his mom in every scene. She cared for her dad, filled the role of a woman who she never even knew, learned to cook and clean, gave up her dream job for him, gave up bits of her freedom for him so he didn’t have to feel so alone. And she did it with Eddie and she’s doing it now with Wally, and Iris can’t do it anymore.

Not for this.

Not when it’s the life she’s pushed so far aside to help the men around her, not when she’s been tending to everyone except her own broken heart.

“I don’t want to lose myself by chasing after answers that don’t need chasing.”

The room goes silent again.

“Do you understand?” she asks, sincerely, but her eyes reflect a sharpness, one she inherited when the world decided to break her spine, one she adopted when she knew she had to pick herself up off a ground that too many people could’ve stopped her from being on, all alone, without a helping hand.

When he doesn’t respond, she brings her lips to his, holds the kiss for a lingering second.

“You can’t be The Flash for this...you need to be my Barry.”

And his eyes go soft and he holds her a little tighter and she thinks maybe he understands.

That keeping secrets from her won’t do either of them any favors, that no matter how painful the reality is, she’ll at least have agency over it, she’ll at least be able to process it in a way where it won’t have to blindside her, where it won’t shake her world.

“Everything,” he promises, kissing her again, “everything.”

“Okay.”

And right now, she’s all talked out. She can’t find the strength for anymore words, so she pulls him down to her, over her, lets him kiss her till she forgets the conversation they just had, till her eyes forget their tears, till her heart is beating fast for an entirely different reason than it was.

She may not come out alive.

But she’s got four months.

Four months to do what she wants.

Four months to live it with her best friend next to her.

Four months where his promise will be her silver lining.

Four months where changing the future will be part of her present.


End file.
